There was a commotion in George Street. Norrie Rowan was trying to manoeuvre his newly-acquired folding electric bike through the Dome’s revolving door. Not a man you’d particularly wish to meet when he’s exasperated.
“I’m keeping it in the car boot. Better thank risk points on my licence,” he said, finding the amused Dome staff accommodating. Like our legal system. He’d been in court a few days earlier, up for allegedly assaulting a woman.
“It’s a horrible thing to be charged with. My solicitor/advocate was worth every penny and it’s not often I praise lawyers,” added Norrie who predictably warmed to his favourite topic.
“I’m delighted Edinburgh Accies have avoided relegation. They were the last club I played for,” said the sentimental Scotland prop.
His recent press, pictorially and literally, in mind. He reckoned: “I’m getting a good reputation for having a bad reputation.” Possibly it has added another nought to the royalties cheque.
On the horizon, a book. “I’ve had two agents ring me, so look for the sequel to Rin Tin Tin. It would make a great movie . . . sex, drugs, and ruck and roll.”
The book’s bound to include a Rowan-esque revue of Edinburgh that will have lawyers patting their wallets. “We’re supposed to be City of Enlightenment when, in reality, we’re a City of Regulation. You can’t do this, you can’t to do that.”
On yer bike, Norrie!
Hard to Bear
Scout’s Honour. I vowed never to have anything to do with ‘‘the movement’’ the moment I heard that Bear Grylls, pictured, the archetypal self-styled adventurer had been appointed Chief Scout.
He was yesterday launching a new range of badges that “guarantee fun adventure”. I have but one questions to ask of the great Bear: Are they genuine?
Join the Boys’ Brigade instead. A Life Boy rather than a Cub?